Filling in for Princess Peach

"This is a major emergency," said my wife. She was looking at her phone with an expression of horror I had never seen on her face before.

"What is it?" I asked. My wife's job as an event organizer seemed stressful, but she usually handled it well. This time, however, she looked like she was on the edge of a nervous breakdown.

"My assistant for tonight's event just called in sick. Coronavirus. She's out of commission for the next two weeks, and I don't know how I'll put on the show without her."

"Well, just reschedule--"

"No way! This is my biggest project yet. If it's not perfect, I'll never work in this industry again."

"Or find someone to fill in?"

"How? We have to be there in half an hour to get set up. There's no way I'll find someone in time. Unless....honey, would you be willing to fill in?"

"Maybe, but I don't know..."

"It will be simple. You won't even have to speak. Just be on stage and follow my lead and you'll be fine."

"Hmmm..."

"Please. You have no idea how important this is to me."

"OK, I'll do it."

"Thank you, honey!!!" My wife gave me a big hug and kiss. "You're the best husband ever! Just one thing. Do you have any objection to being in costume?"

"Ummm..." I tried to remember what the event was. My wife had been planning it for weeks, and there was no way I could ask now without incurring her wrath for not paying attention. The event was...something to promote a new Mario video game, I seemed to recall. "That's fine," I replied. How could I possibly object to a cap, overalls and fake mustache?

"We have to head out now to avoid being late," said my wife, and we headed to the car.

***

When we pulled up to the venue, I could tell this was definitely the biggest event of my wife's career so far. The event was being held in what I recognized as the largest convention center in town. Over the door, a giant banner hung, reading "Bowser's Revenge: The Launch Party." My wife flashed her ID at the entrance and we went inside.

Things were already well underway, with a crowd of hundreds of people milling around in front of a stage. Guys in Toad costumes went around handing out hors d'oevures, while up on stage a performer in a Bowser costume entertained the crowd with some impressive breakdancing. The crowd was quite a mix: some were wearing regular clothes, others seemed to be businessmen in suits, and a large fraction were wearing some sort of cosplay as Mario, Luigi, Wario or even Waluigi. To my surprise, a significant fraction of the crowd was female--around a third, which is more than I'd expect for a video game launch party--also in a mixture of regular clothes and Mario cosplay. As we walked through the crowd, I recognized cosplay of Peach and Daisy, among other characters I was less familiar with.

My wife led me backstage. "We're on in 15 minutes. Let's get changed." Next thing I knew, my wife had stripped naked and was putting on her costume. It looked like a black leather leotard, black thigh high stockings, and a metal-studded black leather collar.

"Wow, I didn't know there was a dominatrix in Mario," I said as I began to remove my clothes. "I guess things have changed since the GameCube days. Did they add the S&M with the Wii version or the Switch version?"

"I'm Bowsette, silly."

"Bowsette?"

"Like, girl-Bowser."

"OK, where's the boy-Bowser costume for me?"

"You're not going to be boy-Bowser. Didn't you see him dancing onstage? You're going to be Princess Peach." My wife pointed to a bright pink dress on a hanger. I swallowed. Wear a dress in front of a crowd? It would be the most humiliating thing imaginable. And if word ever go round to the guys at work....

"No one will know it's you," said my wife, as if she had read my mind. "We'll put you in a wig and plenty of makeup. And there will be something else to conceal your identity."

"What's that?" I asked.

A guy with a clipboard and a headset came up to my wife. "We're running late on the Princess Peach scene," he said. "And Bowser can't break dance much longer. He's due for a union break in two minutes."

"I'll go get the crowd warmed up," said my wife, and then she turned to me. "I can't explain now, but you'll find out soon. Just get dressed and have Charlene in makeup prep you. Oh, and be sure to wear the bra and panties that come with the costume. And the stockings too. Trust me, it's important."

I picked up the panties nervously. Like the dress, they were a shiny pink silk. I had never done anything like this before. But my wife's career was riding on it, and I didn't want to let her down. I put on the panties. The soft, smooth material made them comfortable, even if they were a bit tight around my balls. The bra was kind of loose, and I had to struggle behind my back to get it hooked up, but eventually I succeeded. The stockings were opaque white and came up my thighs, ending just below my butt. Then, I put on the dress, which I also noticed came with some long white gloves, and a pair of pink high heels. I was just pulling on the gloves when a woman came in.

"Makeup for Princess Peach," she said. She must be Charlene, I figured. "First, let's do your wig." She put a dollop of thick liquid on my head and then plopped a big blonde wig on my head.

"Was that stuff glue?" I asked.

"Yeah. It'll wear off in a couple of days."

"A couple of---"

"Don't talk. I gotta do your makeup real quick."

I spent the rest of the time with my eyes closed, trying to pretend I hadn't gotten myself into such a big mess.

Finally, makeup was done. I slipped into the heels and walked unsteadily towards the stage door.

"Time to go get her!" I heard my wife yelling behind the door, and the crowd roared. Then the door opened, and my wife came in. "Oh, good, you're ready," she said. "That was your cue. Oh, one last thing." She pulled out a ball gag, except the ball was decorated to look like a peach. "See, I told you you wouldn't have to talk," she said as she put the gag in my mouth and fastened it to my head.

We went through the stage door, and I blinked in the bright lights. "Bowser has captured Princess Peach, and now it's time for some revenge!" my wife announced to cheers from the crowd. "Here's our prisoner now!"

I followed my wife to the middle of the stage. The crowd seemed even bigger than what we had walked through earlier. People were packed shoulder-to-shoulder in the event hall as far as I could see. Those in the front rows had faces contorted with emotion.

"Let's get Princess Peach chained up, and then we can begin her torture!" announced my wife. Before I knew it, two stagehands had me by the wrists. They held up my arms and put a metal cuff around each one. The cuffs were attached to chains that led up to the ceiling. Next, my ankles were cuffed and chained to the floor. Now, there was definitely no going back. Whatever the torture was that my wife had planned for me, I had no choice but to endure it.

"Now, this is an audience participation event," said my wife. "Just in front of the stage, you'll see there are some tables loaded with pies. Pies quite similar to this one." And somehow my wife had a large cream pie in her hand. "For just $15, you can buy a chance to throw a pie at Princess Peach over here. There will be a special reward, a chance to participate in round two, for anyone who gets her right in the face, like this," and with that my wife smashed the pie in my face. I guess that was the extra camouflage of my identify she had referred to. I could take some comfort that, with a thick layer of whipped cream covering my face, no one would recognize me. On the other hand, that pie was only the first of many.

The crowd rushed the pie tables, and soon the pies were flying. The first barrage mainly landed short, with only a few making contact with my feet. It seemed like people had a hard time judging the distance and the difficulty of throwing upwards to the stage. Soon, however, the pie throwers began to recalibrate. Like a wave, the pies began to travel up my body. I felt the chill as my legs were coated with cold cream. I looked down in dread as pie hits began to travel toward my crotch, but the first pie to hit there was warm, like it was freshly baked. It had some kind of fruit filling, maybe apple, and the sensation was slightly pleasant. Involuntarily, I felt myself become aroused and my cock stiffen. At first, I was surprised, but then I reflected that my wife had been so busy the past few weeks, we hadn't made love. I was full of pent-up horniness, like a teenager, and would find almost anything arousing.

In fact, I was so horny that, despite my predicament, and despite the fact that my wife was standing just a few feet away, I started checking out women in the audience. My attention was soon captured by two red-headed women. They looked very similar, definitely sisters, maybe even twins. They were dressed identically, in lilac-purple formal gowns that only enhanced their fiery red hair. One leaned over to whisper something in the other's ear, and the two of them both giggled and smirked at me. Somehow, their scorn only increased my arousal. The two redheads picked up a pie each and, in unison, tossed them at me. The pies, one chocolate and the other cream, hit my crotch in quick succession, and their contents flowing over me felt like fingers stroking my hardening cock.

The pies continued to land on me, making their way up my torso. Some pie-throwers began to overcompensate, and a few pies flew over my head. However, most were more cautious and managed to hit my body, if not my face. A pie hit me in the chest, and I shivered as a clump of cold cream went into my cleavage--where my cleavage would be, if I had any--and dropped down my dress. Then a pie finally hit my face, blocking my vision. I felt another hit my face, and then another. I hoped that the redheads had thrown one of them. It would be nice to see them in the next round. Two more pies hit my face, and then I heard my wife call for the pie-throwing to stop. There were some groans of disappointment, but she assured the audience that they would get to use the rest of the pies in round three.

"First, however, round two!" announced my wife. The cream was coming off my face now, and I could see who had made it to the next round. There were five podiums on the stage. The first had a tall blonde woman in a pantsuit behind it; the second, a chubby brunette in some sort of mushroom costume; the third, a portly guy in yellow overalls; the fourth, someone in a Yoshi costume; and the fifth, the two redheads. It looked like they were competing together as a team.

"The rules for round two are simple," explained my wife. "We'll go around asking questions. Get your question wrong, and you're eliminated. Get it right, and you'll be eligible to participate in the next stage. Also, with each correct response, there will be a messy punishment for Princess Peach."

"Question one: What was Mario's first video game appearance?"

"That easy," replied the blonde woman. "Donkey Kong."

"Correct!" said my wife. "And now, a fitting punishment for Princess Peach: peaches!"

As she said that, I felt a torrent of something slimy and sticky fall on me. That must be the peaches she was referring to. They weren't whole peaches. They were sliced and in a thick syrup. Maybe canned peaches, or peach pie filling. The peaches started by forming a pile on my head, but they soon started flowing down my body. The syrup was first, running over my face and down my dress. The sensation of the liquid flowing down my body made me squirm against my restraints, but they held me firm.

"Question two," my wife now addressed the woman in the mushroom costume. "What is the name of the brown mushroom enemies found in many of the Mario games?"

"Too easy! Goombas!" Judging by her costume, this contestant was a goomba enthusiast. I realized that with so many Mario superfans in attendance, I was unlikely to get any respite from my messy predicament.

"Correct! More peaches!" Another dump of peaches on me. Now, peach slices were starting to go down my dress. Meanwhile, the syrup had reached my panties and soaked them. My saturated panties felt sticky and clingy, tantalizing my hard cock.

"Question three," my wife asked the guy in overalls. "What was Bowser's original name?"

"Hmm...I'm going to have to go with, Koopa."

"Correct. We would also have accepted King Koopa. More peaches for Peach!"

This time, it felt like most of the peaches went down the front of my dress. Some went all the way down, but a lot got caught in my bra. Juice was dripping down my legs and I felt it pooling in my shoes.

"Question four," continued my wife. This time, she was facing the person in the Yoshi costume. "In the same vein, what was Mario's original name?"

"Jumpman!" came Yoshi's reply, and this time my wife didn't even have to say anything. Another deluge of peaches let everyone know that the response was correct. The feeling of the juice flowing over my cock made me harder still. I could feel my erection straining against the panties and tenting them out, although everything was concealed under the fancy princess dress I was wearing. Still, my cock managed to push out the waistband enough to allow some of the peaches slide in. I groaned through my ball gag as I felt my panties begin to fill up the the slimy fruits.

"Question five is for the two competitors working as a team." My wife was now addressing the redheads. "For which system was the original Mario Kart released?"

"Hmm...I remember playing that one on the N64," said the first redhead.

"Me too. Maybe we should go with that one," the other replied.

No! I knew that the original was for the SNES If the redheads got this question wrong, they'd be eliminated and I'd be stuck with the other, less hot contestants. Despite my gag, restraints and messy state, I tried to shake my head.

"Well, maybe there was an earlier one?" I don't know if the redheads got my hint, but they seemed to be reconsidering.

"Maybe for the Super Nintendo?" Even though I knew it would mean more peaches for me, I tried to encourage them to go with that.

"Super Nintendo," said the redheads in unison.

"Correct!" said my wife and more peaches rained down on me. Now, all of my clothes were saturated with the juice, and it felt like my bra and panties were completely full of peaches. I was sticky all over, but happy the redheads were still in the game.

"Well, looks like we're in a five-way tie. OK, the last question is to determine the winner. Whoever answers it correctly moves on to part three. On the screens, you'll see a certain phrase. Whoever can correctly read and define it first wins."

All along the walls of the room, screens came down and on them was projected:

ピーチ姫

What the hell was that supposed to mean? Fortunately, the redheads were on it.

"Pichi-hime!" said one.

"The original Japanese name for Princess Peach!" added the other.

"Correct!" said my wife. "Come up on stage, you'll be helping out with the next part of the event. But first, a final punishment for our princess. We're out of peaches, but we have something else that will work just as well."

Now the screens switched to a camera feed of the stage, and I could see myself for the first time. I was a mess. Between the pies and the peaches, I couldn't even recognize myself. For a split second, a saw something above me, and then it hit me. A torrent of chocolate sauce covered me from head to toe. Once the chocolate finished, I received a final dusting with rainbow-colored sprinkles. Now, I barely even recognized the princess get-up I was wearing. I had thought my biggest embarrassment would be wearing a dress, but that was only the beginning. I had started the night looking like a high-born woman, but now I had been brought low and humiliated. Could things get any worse?

"So, tell us a bit about yourselves," my wife was asking the redheads, who were now on stage.

"Well, we're sophomores, studying Japanese language and culture at the university," said one.

"And of course we're big Mario fans," said the other.

"Are you sisters?" my wife asked.

"We're twins!" they replied together.

"Twins!" echoed my wife. "And are you in costume tonight?"

"Yes, we're both dressed as Princess Shokora," they replied.

"Wow," said my wife. "From Wario Land 4. That's a deep cut. OK, are you ladies ready for the next part of tonight's event?"

"Yes!"

"Great! Here's the situation: We're going to strip Princess Peach, but she's a bit shy. So, your job is to preserve her modesty with these pies. Do you think you can handle it?"

"Yeah!" "Sure!"

"Wonderful," said my wife as she lead the redheads over to me. My wife walked around me and undid the zipper to my strapless dress. "Now, I'll pull down the dress a bit, and you cover up her bra."

My wife pulled my dress to my waist, and the two redheads each covered a cup of my bra with a cream pie. The two redheads smiled at me, and their gentle fingers brushed my body as they pied me, making my cock twitch. I felt so humiliated, dressed as a woman, half-naked and covered in mess, but also aroused by both the warm, sticky fluid filling my panties and my proximity to these two attractive young women.

"Now we're going to take the princess's dress off completely," said my wife. "But can you make sure no one sees her royal panties?"

"We sure can," said one of the redheads, as the other moved behind me. My wife pulled my dress completely down, dropping it into a sodden pile at my feet. As it passed my thighs, the two redheads pied my panties from front and back. The rear pie hit first, flattening against my ass and pushing forward my pelvis, making me arch my back slightly. For a split second, I could see the front of my crotch. My erect cock was straining against the saturated fabric of my panties, almost perfectly outlined by the wet fabric. And then it was hidden, the cream of the pie covering it. The smooth cream flowed over my panty-covered cock and I could just feel, behind the crust, the force of the redhead's hand, delicate and firm at the same time as she gently pied my penis.

It was all too much. I felt my cock begin to tingle. Oh, no, please don't let me cum, I thought. Not here. Not like this. In front of all these people, dressed like a girl. And with this woman's hand on my cock, it would be like infidelity to my wife. But all those thoughts just made me cum harder, harder than I'd ever cum in my life. There must have been a hurricane of semen in my panties, but the thick layer of whipped cream hid everything from the audience. I moaned into my ball gag and fruitlessly thrashed against my restraints, feelings of guilt and humiliation dueling with the intense pleasure I felt.

The audience may not have noticed, but those on the stage did. The redhead in front of me took a step back. She had a shocked look on her face, but it soon melted into a smirk. With guilty eyes, I glanced at my wife. Her mouth was hanging open, but then she closed it and smiled wickedly. "I think Princess Peach enjoyed that!" she announced to the crowd. "Let's see how much she enjoys what comes next!" The guilt in the pit of my stomach was replaced with trepidation about what was in store for me.

My wife came over to undo the shackles around my wrists. "I'm glad you're having fun," she whispered in my ear. "Because we're just getting started with you." My wife led me, clad only in bra, panties, stockings and heels, to a staircase leading down from the stage. Again, I saw myself on the screens. I was surprised at how I passed for a woman now. The peaches that had fallen into my bra filled it to a D-cup volume, while the peaches in my panties give them such a lumpy appearance that the bulge of my now-deflated cock was concealed. I was no longer physically restrained, but in my messy and half-naked state, escape would be impossible. I followed my wife down the stairs, and when I saw a pillory, low to the ground in front of the audience, I knew my place. I knelt and put my hands and neck in the holes. It was just a formality when my wife closed the pillory around me and fastened it shut.